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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 







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I UNITED STATES OP AMERICA, 



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TREASURE TROVE. 



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Treasure Trove 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 



By S. EYTINGE, Jr. 




-4 



r.^ 0^ ^>; ' 

-Tt5N 
JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY 

Late Ticknor &: Fields, and Fields, Osgo:id, & Co. 

1873 



.C25 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S72, by 

James R. OsciooD and Company, 
in the Office of tlie Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



RIVEKSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: 
ELECTROTYPED AND PRINTED BY 
H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY 




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

ENGRAVED BY A. V. S. ANTHONY. 



I. The Castle of Chalus .... 
II. Richard I. Plantagenet 

III. Jews holding Old Post-obits and I O U's 

IV. He kept by turns revolving . 
V. All were singing, drinking 

VI. Then a Mace of Steel he smote in two 
VII. He caught the Herald .... 
VIII. He prudently smuggled the Gold out . 
IX. The Shock of the Battle .... 
X. A Joyous Welcome he had from all 
XI. Once a Year a Pipe of Sherry 
XII. Ready in Fashion to lead the Ton 

XIII. After Dinner and Afternoon 

XIV. There was Ink on his Thumb 

XV. The Plaudits followed him loud and free 
XVI. Hurrah for the Gold ! . 
XVII. His Curtle-axe rends the Double Oak 

XVIII. Je-su ! I'm shot 

XIX. With Eye unflinching, gazing on the King 



PAGE 

I 

■ 5 
7 

, 8 

10 

II 

12 

■ 13 
i6 

. i8 
19 

. 21 

23 
. 24 

25 
. 2S 

29 
■ 31 



VI 



List of IlliLstrations, 



XX. The Captain neared the Royal Bed 
XXI. Sling an Elephant by the Tail . 
XXII. \Vith an Abbot to pray 

XXIII. The Cutter began dissecting 

XXIV. The Final Catastrophe . 
XXV. He wasted awav as it rusted 



PACK 

• 11 
39 

■ 41 
42 

• 45 





TREASURE-TROVE. 



ONCE, the Castle of Chains, crowned 
With sullen battlements, stood and frowned 
On the sullen plain around it ; 
But Richard of England came one day, 
And the Casde of Chalus passed away 
In such a rapid and sure decay 

No modern yet has found it. 



Who has not heard of the Lion King 

Who made the harps of the minstrels ring? 
1 



Treasure- Trove. 

Oh, well they might imagine it 
Hard for chivalry's ranks to show 
A knight more gallant to face a foe, 
With a firmer lance or a heavier blow, 

Than Richard I. Plantagenet; 

Or gayer withal : for he loved his joke, 
As well as he loved, with slashing stroke, 
The haughtiest helm to hack at; 




Treasiwe- Trove, 

Wine or blood he laughingly poured ; 
'Twas a lightsome word or a heavy sword, 
As he found a foe or a festive board, 

With a skull or a joke to crack at. 

Yet some their candid belief avow, 
That, if Richard lived in England now, 

And his lot were only a common one, 
He ne'er had meddled with kings or states, 
But might have been a bruiser of pates 
And champion now of the "heavy weights ,"- 

A first-rate " Fighting Phenomenon." 



A vassal bound in peace and war 
To Richard I. was Vidomar^ — 

A noble as proud and needy 
As ever before that monarch bowed, 
But not so needy and not so proud 

As the monarch himself was greedy. 
Of the Limosin was he Vicomte : 
A county then of some account. 

Though counted rather stony. 
For always it had good fighting men 
Amongst its hardy serfs — but then 

It had more men than money. 



Tr east we- Trove. 

His father nature's debt had paid 

About the time of the Third Crusade, — 

A time when the fashion was fully set 

By Richard of running in tilts and debt, 

When plumes were high and prudence low, 

And every knight felt bound to "go 

The pace," and just like Richard do, 

By running his purse and a Paynim through. 

Yet do not suppose that Vidomar 

Was ever a knight in the Holy War : 

For Richard many a Saracen head 

Had lopped before the old Count was dead ; 

And Richard was home from Palestine, 

Home from the dungeon of Di.irrenstein, 

And many a Christian corpse had made. 

Ere the time in which the story is laid. 

But the fashion he set became so strong, 

That Vidomar was hurried along. 

And did as many a peer has done 

On reaching a title and twenty-one. 

And met the fate that will meet a peer 

Who lives in state on nothing a year. 

Deserted by all, except some Jews, 

Holding old post-obits and I O Us, 

Who hunted him up and hunted him down, 

He left Limoges, the capital town, 



Treasure- Trove. 



5 




For his country castle Chains, — 
As spendthrift lords to Boulogne repair, 
To give their estates a chance to air, — 

And went to turning follows ; 
Or ordered his serfs to turn the same, 
While he went himself in pursuit of game, 

Or any rural pleasure. 
Till one fine day, as he rode away. 



Treasure- Troi 'e. 

A serf came running behind to say 

Tliey'd found a buried treasure. 
No more he thought of hawk or hound, 
But spurred to the spot, and there he found. 

Beyond his boldest thoughts, 
A sum to set him afloat a^ain, — 
The leading figure, 'twas very plain, 
Was followed by several 000. 

O, who can tell of the schemes that flew 
Through his head, as the treasure met his view, 
And he knew that again his note was good ? 
He may have felt as a debtor would 

Who has dodged a dogging dun. 
Or a bank-cashier in his hour of dread 
With brokers behind and breakers ahead, 
Or a blood with his last "upon the red," — 

And each expecting a run. 



What should he do? 'Twas very true 
That all of his debts were overdue ; 
But the real-whole-souled must use their gold 
To run new scores, — not to pay off old. 
That night he lay till the break of day, 
The doubtful question solving: 



Treasure- Trove. 

Himself in his bed, and that in his head, 
He kept by turns revolving. 




That selfsame day, not very far 
From the country castle of Vidomar, 

The king had been progressing : 
A courtly phrase, when the king was out 
On a chivalrous bender; any route 
As good as another : what about 

Were little good in guessing. 



That night, as he sat and drank, he frowned, 
While courtiers moodily stood around. 

All wondering what the journey meant. 
Till a scout reported, "Treasure found!" — 
With a rap that made the glasses bound, 



8 



Treasure- Trove. 



He swore, " By Arthur's table round, 
I'll have another tournament ! " 




Treasure- Trove. ( 

No more, as he sat and drank, he frowned. 
Or courtiers moodily stood around, 

But all were singing, drinking ; 
And louder than all the songs he led, 
And louder he said, " Ho ! pass the red ! " 
Till he went to bed with a ring in his head 

That seemed like gold a-chinking. 

'Twere wrong to infer from what you've read 
That Richard awoke with an aching head ; 

For nerves like his resisted 
With wonderful ease what we might deem 
Enough to stagger a Polypheme, 
And his spirits would never more than seem 

A trifle too much " assisted." 

As soon as the light broke into his tent, 
Without delay for a herald he sent. 

And bade him don his tabard. 
And away to the Count to say by law 
That gold was the king's : unless he saw 
The same ere noon, his sword he would draw 

And throw away the scabbard. 

An hour, for his morning exercise. 

He swayed that sword of wondrous size, — 



I o Treasti re- Trove. 

'Twas called his great " persuader " ; 
Then a mace of steel he smote in two, — 
A feat which the king would often do, 
Since Saladin wondered at that coup 

When he met our stout crusader. 




A trifle for him: he trained too light,— 
Grown lazy now : but his appetite, 

On the whole, was satisfactory, — 
As the vanishing viands, warm and cold. 
Most amply proved, ere, minus the gold, 
The herald returned and trembling told 

How the Count had proved refractory 



Treasure- Trove. 1 1 

Had owned it true that his serfs had found 
A treasure buried somewhere in the ground, — 

Perhaps not strictly a nugget: 
Though none but Norman lawyers chose 
To count it JTort, if the finders froze 
To 5ri*CaSUrt=trOVlC, — especially those 

Who held the land where they dug it. 

For quits he'd give up half, — down, — cash ; 
And that, for one who had gone to smash, 

Was a liberal restitution : 
His neighbor Shent-per-Shent did sue 
On a better claim, and put it through, — 
Recovered his suit, but not a sou 

At the tail of an execution. 

Cceur gazed around with the ominous glare 
Of the lion deprived of the lion's share, — 

A look there was no mistaking, — 
A look which the courtiers never saw 
Without a sudden desire to draw 
Away from the sweep of the lion's paw 

Before their bones were achins:. 



'«3- 



He caught the herald, — 'twas by the slack 
Of garments below and behind his back, — 



12 



Treasure- Trove. 




Then swuns: him round for a minute ; 
And when at last he let him free, 
He shied him at a neighboring tree, 
A distance of thirty yards and three, 

And lodged him handsomely in it : 



Then seized his ponderous battle-axe, 
And bade his followers mount their hacks, 

With a look of his countenance so stern, 
So little of fun, so full of fight. 
That, when he came in the Count's full sight, ' 
In something of haste and more of frigln. 

The Count rode out of the post en : 



Treasure- Tiwe. 

And crowding leagues from his angry liege, 
He left his castle to storm or sieo:e, — 

His poor beef-eaters to hold out, 
Or save themselves as well as they could, 
Or be food for crows : what noble should 
Waste thought on such ? As a noble would, 

He prudently smuggled the gold out. 



13 




In the feudal days, in the good old times 
Of feudal virtues and feudal crimes, 

A point of honor they'd make in it, 
Though sure in the end their flag must fall, 
To show stout fight and never to call 
A truce till they saw a hole in the wall 

Or a larder without any steak in it. 



Tirasjtre- 7 'rove. 1 5 

The fight began. Shouts filled the air, — 

" St. George ! " " St. Denis ! " — as here and there 

The shock of the battle shifted ; 
There were catapult-shots and shots by hand, 
Ladders with desperate climbers manned, 
Rams and rocks, hot lead and sand 

On the heads of the climbers sifted. 

But the sturdy churls would not give way. 
Though Richard in person rushed to the fray 

With all of his rash proclivity 
For knocks ; till, despairing of knightly fame 
In doughty deeds for a doubtful claim, 
The hero of Jaffa changed his game 

To a masterly inactivity. 

He stretched his lines in a circle round, 
And pitched his tent on a rising ground 

For general supervision 
Of both the hostile camps, while he 
Could join with Blondel in minstrel glee. 
Or drink, or dice with Marcadee, 

And they — consume provision. 

To starve a garrison day by day 
You may not think a chivalrous way 



1 6 Treasiij'c- Trove. 

To take a fortification. 
The story is dull : by way of relief, 
I make a digression, very brief, 
And leave the " ins " to swallow their beef, 

The '^ outs " their mortification. 




Many there were in Richard's train 

More known to fame and of higher degree, 

But none that suited his fickle vein 
So well as Blondel and Marcadee. 

Blondel had grown from a minstrel-boy 
To a very romantic troubadour 



Trcastwe- Trove. \ j 

Whose soul was music, whose song was joy, 

Whose only motto was Vive V amour ! 
In lady's bower, in lordly hall, 

From the king himself to the poorest clown, 
A joyous welcome he had from all, 

And Care in his presence forgot to frown. 
Sadly romantic, fantastic, and vain. 

His heart for his head still made amends ; 
For he never sang a malicious strain, 

And never was known to fail his friends. 
Who but he, when the captive king, 

By a brother betrayed, was left to rot, 
Would have gone disguised to seek and sin,^, 

Till he heard his tale and the tidings brought ? 
Little the listening sentries dreamed. 

As they watched the king and a minstrel play. 
That what but an idle rhyming seemed 

Would rouse all England another day ! 
'Twas the timely aid of a friend in need, 
And, seldom as Richard felt the power 
Of a se'rvice past, he remembered the deed 

And cherished him ever from that hour : 
He made him 'his bard, with nought to do 
But court the ladies and court the Nine, 
And every day bring something new 

To sing for the revelers over their wine ; 



2 



1 8 Treasurc-Tnve. 

With* once a year a pipe of Sherry, 

A suit of clothes, and a haunch of venison, 

To make himself and his fellows merry. — 
The salary now of Alfred Tennyson. 




Brabangon Captain Marcadee 
Commanded Richard's lances free. 
Wrong or right, or right or wrong, 
With conscience weak and muscles strong, 
He roamed about from clime to clime 
The side of virtue or yet of crime 
Ready to take in a regular way 
For any leader and regular pay ; 
And trusting steel, he thought it odd 
To fear the Devil or honor God. 
His forte was not in the field alone. 

He was no common fighter, 
For in all accomplishments he shone, — 

At least, in all the lighter. 



Trcasiii'c- Trove. 

To lance or lute alike an fait, 
With grasp now firm, now light, 

He flourished this to knightly lay, 
And that to lav a knight. 

Ready in fashion to lead the ton, 
In the battle-field his men, 

He danced like a Zephyr, and, harness on, 



10 



ft ^^^.■. - ^.V} .V 




20 Treasure- Trove. 

Could "walk his mile in ten." 
And Nature gave him such a frame, 

His tailor such a fit, 
That whether a head or a heart his aim, 

He always made a hit. 
Wherever he went, the ladies dear 

Would very soon adore him, 
And, quite of course, the lords would sneer, 

But never sneer before him ! 
Perhaps it fared with the ladies worse 

Than it fared with their gallants ; 
Tor he broke a vow with as slight remorse 

As he ever broke a lance. 
Thus, tilting here and jilting there, 
He fought a foe or he fooled a fair, 

But little recking how \ 
So deadly smooth, so cruel and vain, 
He might have made a capital Cain^ 

Or a splendid dandy now. 

In short, if you looked o'er land and sea, 

From London to the Niger, 
You certainly must have said with me, — 
If Richard was lion, Marcadee 

Might well have been the tiger. 



Treasure- Trove. 



21 



A month went by. They lay there still, 
And chafed with nothing but time to kill, — 
A tough old foe. Observe the way 
They laid him out, as thus : One day, — 

'Twas after dinner and afternoon. 
When the noise was over of knife and fork, 
And only was heard an occasional cork 

And Blondel idly thrumming a tune, — 
King Richard pushed the wine along. 
And rapped the table, and cried, " A soncj- 1 
Dullness I hold a shame, a sin 
Against good wine. Come, Blondel, begin!" 
Blondel coughed, — was " half afraid," — 
Was "out last night on a serenade, 

And caught a cold," — his "voice was gone, 

And really, just now, his head" — " Go on ! " 




22 Treasure-Trove. 

He bowed, and swept the chords — " Brrrrang "- 
With a handful of notes, and thus he sang : - 

BLONDEL. 

Life is fleeting, — make it pleasant ; 
Care for nothing but the present ; 
For the past we leave behind us. 
And the future may not find us. 

Though we cannot shun its troubles, 
Care and sorrow we may banish ; 
Though its pleasures are but bubbles, 
Catch the bubbles ere they vanish. 

There is joy we cannot measure — 
Joy we may not win with treasure — 
When the glance of beauty thrills us, 
When her love with rapture fills us. 
Let us seize it ere it passes : 

Be our motto, " I>ove is mighty." 
Fill, then, fill your brimming glasses ! 
Fill, and drink to Aphrodite ! 

Of course they drank w^ith a right good will. 
For they never missed a chance to fill. 
And yet a few, I'm sorry to own, 
Made side-remarks in an undertone, 
Like those we hear, when, nowadays. 
Good-natured friends, with seeming praise, 



Trcasiwe- Trove. 



23 



Contrive to damn. In the midst of the hum 
They heard a loud and slashing thrum : 
'Tvvas the king : and each his breath drew in 
Till you might have heard a falling pin. 
Some little excuse, at first, he made, 
While over the lute his fmgers strayed : — 
'^ You know my way, — as the fancies come, 
I improvise." — There was ink on his thumb. 




That morning, alone, good hours he spent 
In writing dispatches never sent. 



RICHARD. 

There is pleasure when bright eyes are glancing 

And Beauty is willing ; but more 
When the war-horse is gallantly prancing 

And snuffing the battle afar, — 
When the foe, with his banner advancing, 

Is sounding the clarion of war. 



24 Treasure- Trove. 

Where the battle is deadly and gory, 

Where foeman to foeman is pressed, 

W^here the path is before me to glory, 
Is pleasure for me, and the best. 

Let me live in proud chivalry's story, 
Or die with my lance in its rest ! 




The plaudits followed him loud and free 
As he tossed the lute to Marcadee, 
Who caught it featly, bowing low, 
And said, " My liege, 'l may not know 



Treasicre- Trove. 2 5 

To improvise ; but I'll give a song, 

The song of our camp, — we've known it long. 

It suits not well this tinkle and thrum. 

It needs to be heard with a rattling drum. 

Ho, there ! Tambour, — He knows it well, — 

The Brabangonne ! Now make it tell : 

Let your elbows now with a spirit wag 

In the outside roll and the double drag." 

MARCADEE. 

I'm but a soldier of fortune, you see : 

Huzza ! 
Glory and love, — they are nothing to me : 

Ha, ha ! 
Glory's soon faded, and love is soon cold : 
Give me tlie soh'd, reliable gold : 

Hurrah for the gold ! 

Country or king I have none, I am free : 

Huzza ! 
Patriots quarrel, — 'tis harvest for me : 

Ha, ha ! 
A soldier of fortune, my creed is soon told, — 
I'd fight for the Devil, to pocket his gold ! 

Hurrah for the gold.' 




26 Treasttre-Trovc. 

He turned to the king, as he finished the verse, 

And threw on the table a heavy purse 

With a pair of dice, — another, you know, 

Still lurked incog, for a lucky throw : — 

"'Tis mine ; 'twas thine. If the king would play. 

Perchance he'd find his revenge to-day. 

Gambling, I own, is a fault, a sin ; 

I always repent — unless I win. 

Le jeic est fait. — Well thrown! eleven! 

My purse is gone. — Double- six, by heaven 1 " 

At this unlucky point in the game 

A herald was ushered in. He came 

With a flag of truce, commissioned to say 

The garrison now were willing to lay 

The kevs of the castle at his feet, 

If he'd let them go and let them eat: 

They'd done their best ; could do no more 

Than humbly wait the fortune of war 

And Richard's word. It came in tones 

That grated harshly : " Damn the bones 

And double six ! Marcadee, you've won. — 

Take back my word to each mother's son. 

And tell them Richard swore it : 
Be the smoke of their den their funeral pall ! 
By the Holy Tomb, I'll hang them all ! 
They've hung out so well behind their wall, 



Trcasiirc-Trove. 27 

They'll hang out well before it." 
Then Richard laughed in his hearty way, 
Enjoying his joke, as a monarch may. 
If it lacked in life, it was full of death, 
And he laughed till he ached for want of breath ; 
Like many, believing the next best thing 
To a joke with a point is a joke with a sting. 
Loud he laughed ; but he laughed not long 
Ere he leaped to the back of his charger strong 
And bounded forward, axe on high, 
Circling the tents with his battle-cry, — 
" Away ! away ! we shall win the day : 

In the front of the fight you'll find me : 
The first to get in my spurs shall win, — 

My boots to the wight behind me!" 

. . . . They have reached the moat ; 
The draw is up, but a wooden float 
Is thrust across, and onward they run ; 
The bank is gained and the barbican won ; 
The outer gate goes down with a crash ; 
Through the portcullis they madly dash, 
And with shouts of triumph they now assail 
The innermost gate. The crushing hail 
Of rocks and beams goes through the mass. 
Like the summer-hail on the summer-grass ; 



Treasure- Trove. 



29 



I'hey f^xlter, they waver. A stalwart form 
Breaks through the ranks, like a bolt in the storm : 
'Tis the Lion King! — " How^ now, ye knaves! 
])o ye look for safety? Find your graves!" — 
One blow to the left, one blow to the right, — 
Two recreants fall, — no more of flight. 
One stride to the front, and, stroke on stroke, 
His curtle axe rends the double oak. 
Down shower the missiles ; they fall in vain ; 
They scatter like drops from the lion's mane. 
He is down, — he is up ; that right arm ! how 
'Tis nerved with the strength of twenty, now ! 
The barrier yields, — it shivers, — it falls. 
" Huzza ! St. George ! to the walls ! to the walls ! 
Throw the rats to the moat ! cut down ! spare not I 
No quarter ! remember — Jc — su ! I'm shot 1 " 




30 Treasure- Trove. 

On a silken pallet lying, under hangings stiff with 

gold, 
Now is Coeur-de-Lion sighing, weakly sighing, he the 

bold ! 
For with riches, power, and glory now forever he must 

part. 
They have told him he is dying. Keen remorse is 

at his heart. 
Life is grateful, life is glorious, with the pulses bound- 
ing high 
In a warrior frame victorious : it were easy so to die. 
Yet to die is fearful ever ; oh, how fearful, when the 

sum 
Of the past is only murder, — and a fearful world to 

come ! 
Where are now the wretched victims of his wrath t 

The deed is done. 
He has conquered. They have suffered. Yonder, 

blackening in the sun. 
From the battlements they're hanging. Little joy it 

gives to him 
Now to see the work of vengeance, when his eye is 

growing dim ! 
One was saved, — the daring bowman who the fatal 

arrow sped ; 
He was saved, but not for mercy ; better numbered 

with the dead ! 



Treasure- Trove. 



31 



Now, relenting, late repenting, Richard turns to 

Marcadee, 
Saying, " Haste, before I waver, bring the captive 

youth to me." 
He is .brought, his feet in fetters, heavy shackles on 

his hands. 
And, with eye unflinching, gazing on the king, erect 

he stands. 




3 2 Trcasu re- Trove. 

He is gazing not in anger, not for insult, not for 

show ; 
But his soul, before its leaving, Richard's very soul 

would know. 
Death is certain, — death by torture : death for him 

can have no sting, 
If that arrow did its duty, — if he share it with the 

king. 
Were he trembling or defiant, were he less or more 

than bold, 
Once again to vengeful fury would he rouse the fiend 

of old 
That in Richard's breast is lurking, ready once again 

to spring. 
Dreading now that vengeful spirit, with a wavering 

voice, the king 
Questions impotently, wildly : " Prisoner, tell me, 

what of ill 
Ever I have done to thee or thine, that me thou 

wouldest kill 1 " 
Higher, prouder still he bears him ; o'er his counte- 
nance appear. 
Flitting quickly, looks of wonder and of scorn ; what 

does he hear ? 



a 



And dost thou ask me, man of blood, what evil 
thou hast done ? 



Treasu ;r- Trove. 3 3 

Hast thou so soon forgot thy vow to hang each 

mother's son ? 
No ! oft as thou hast broken vows, I know them 

to be strong, 
Whene'er thy pride or lust or hate has sworn to do 

a wrong. 
But churls should bow to right divine of kings, 

for good or ill. 
And bare their necks to axe or rope, if 'twere thy 

royal will ? 
Ah, hadst thou, Richard, yet to learn the very 

meanest thing 
That crawls the earth, in self-defense would turn 

upon a king ? 
Yet deem not 'twas the hope of life which led me 

to the deed : 
I'd freely lose a thousand lives to make thee, ty- 
rant, bleed ! — 
Aye ! mark me well, canst thou not see somewhat 

of old Bertrand ? 
My father good ! my brothers dear ! all murdered, 

by thy hand ! 
Yes, one escaped ; he saw thee strike, he saw his 

kindred die, 
And breathed a vow, a burning vow of vengeance, 

— it was I ! 
3 



34 Trcasitrc-Tvove. 

I've lived ; but all my life has been a memory 

of the slain ; 
I've lived but to revenge them, — and I have not 

lived in vain ! 
I read it in thy haggard face, the hour is drawing 

nigh 
When power and wealth can aid thee not, — when 

Richard, thou must DIE! 
What mean those pale, convulsive lips ? What 

means that shrinking brow ? 
Ha ! Richard of the lion- heart, thou art a coward 

now ! 
Now call thy hireling ruffians ; bid them bring the 

cord and rack, 
And bid them strain these limbs of mine until 

the sinews crack; 
And bid them tear the quivering flesh, break one 

by one each bone ; 
Thou canst not break my spirit, though thou mayst 

compel a groan. 
I die, as I would live and die, the ever bold and 

free ; 
And I shall die with joy, to think I've rid the 

world of thee." 

Swords are starting from their scabbards, grim and 
hardened warriors \vait 



Treasure- Trove. 3 5 

Richard's slightest word or gesture that may seal the 

bowman's fate. 
But his memory has been busy with the deeds of 

other times. 
In the eyes of wakened conscience all his glories 

turn to crimes, 
And his crimes to something monstrous ; worlds were 

little now to give 
In atonement for the least. He cries, in anguish, 

" Let him live. 
He has reason ; never treason more became a traitor 

bold. 
Youth, forgive as I forgive thee ! Give him freedom, 

— give him gold. 
Marcadee, be sure, obey me ; 'tis the last, the dying 

hest 
Of a monarch who is sinking, sinking fast, — oh, not 

to rest ! 
Haply, He above, remembering, may relieve my dark 

despair 
With a ray of hope to light the gloom when I am 

suffering — there ! " 

The captain neared the royal bed 
And humbly bowed his helmed head. 
And laid his hand upon the plate 



3< 



Treasure- Ti'ove. 




That sheathed his breast, and said, "■ Though late 

Thy mercy comes, I hold it still 

My duty to do thy royal will. 

If I should fail to serve thee fair, 

May I be doomed to suffer — there ! " 



Treasure- Trove. 



37 



I've often met with a fast young friend 
More ready to borrow than I to lend : 
I've heard smooth men in election-time 
Prove every creed^ but their own, a crime : 
Perhaps, if the fast one wished to borrow, 
I've taken his word to pay " to-morrow " ; 
Perhaps, while Smooth explained his creed, 
I've thought him the man for the country's need; 
Perhaps I'm more of a trusting mood 
Than you suppose ; but I think I would 

Have trusted that man of mail, 
If I had been the dying king, 
About as far as you could sling 

An elephant by the tail 




38 Treasure-Trove. 

Good subjects then^ as now^ no doubt^ 
When a king was dead, were eager to shout 

In time, " God save " the nev/ one ! 
One trouble was always whom to choose 
Amongst the heirs ; for it raised the deuce 
And ran the subject's neck in a noose, 

Unless he chose the true one. 

Another difficult task, — to judge 

If the coming king would bear a grudge 

For some old breach of concord, 
And take the earliest chance to send 
A trusty line by a trusty friend 
To give his compliments at the end 

Of a disagreeable strong cord. 

And whoever would have must seize his own. 
Thus a dying king was left alone, 

With a sad neglect of manners ; 
Ere his breath was out, the courtiers ran, 
W^ith fear or zeal for " the coming man," 
In time to escape from under his ban, 

Or hurry under his banners. 



So Richard was left in a shabby way 
To Marcadee, with an abbot to pray 



Treasure- Trove. 

And pother witli consolation, 
Reminding 'twas never too late to search - 
For mercy, and hinting that Mother Church 
Was never known to leave in the lurch 

A king — with a fat donation. 



39 




But the abbot was known to Richard well, 
As one who would smoothen the road to hell, 

And quite as willing to revel 
As preach ; and he always preached to soothe, 



40 Treasure- Trove. 

With a mild regard for the follies of youth, — 
Himself, in epitome, proving the truth 

Of the world, the flesh, and the devil. 

This was the will that Richard made : — 
" My body at father's feet be laid ; 

And to Rouen which loved me most, 
I give my heart ; and likewise, I do 
Bequeath — my bowels — to rebel Poitou ; 
My darling sins — dear abbot, to — you — 

And I give " — he gave up the ghost. 

The abbot looked grave, but never spoke. 
The captain laughed, gave the abbot a poke. 

And, without ado or lingering, 
" Conveyed " the personals, jewels, and gold, 
Omitting the formal ^0 l^aDr tinTr ^To iJ^OltT. 
From the royal finger, before it was cold. 

He slipped the royal finger-ring. 

There might have been in the eye of the law 
A something which lawyers call a flaw 

Of title in such a conversion : 
But if weak in the law, he was strong in the hand, 
And had the " nine points." — He summoned his 
band, 



Treasure- Trove. 

And ordered before him the archer Bertrand, 
Intending a Httle diversion. 



41 



He called the cutter, — no cutter of clothes, 
But such as royalty kept for those 

Who happened to need correcting, — 
And told him that Richard, before he died, 
Desired to have a scalpel applied 
To the traitor there. With professional pride, 

The cutter besran dissecting. 




42 Treastire- Trove. 

Now Bones was born with a genius to flay : 
He might have ranked had he Hved to-day, 

As a capital taxidermist : 
And yet, as he tugged, they heard him say, 
Of all the backs that ever lay 
Before him in a professional way, 

That was of all backs the firmest. 

Kind reader, allow me to drop a veil 
In pity ; I cannot pursue the tale 

In the heartless tone of the last strophe. 

• •••••••• 

'Tis done, and again I'll be the same. 
They triumphed not, if they felt no shame : 
No muscle quivered, no murmur came, 
Until the final catastrophe. 




Treasure-Trove. 43 

The captain jested a moment^ then 

He waved his hand and bowed to his men 

With a single word ^^ Disbanded/' 
And galloped away with three or four 
Stout men-at-arms to the nearest shore, 
Where a gallant array not long before 

With the king in pride had landed. 

He coasted around, went up the Rhine^ 
So famous then for robbers and wine, 

So famous now as a ramble. 
The wine and the robbers still are there ; 
But they rob you now with a bill of fare, 
And gentlemen bankers ^'^ on the square " 

Will clean you out if you gamble. 

He built him a Schloss on — something-Stein, 
And became the tirst of as proud a line 

As e'er took toll on the river. 
When barons, perched in their castles high, 
On the valley would keep a watchful eye," 
And pounce on travellers with their cry, 

'^ The Rhine-dues ! down ! deliver ! " 



And crack their crowns for any delay 
Jn paying down. And that, by the way. 



44 Treasure- Trove. 

A"bout as correctly as I know, 
Is the origin true of an ancient phrase 
So frequently heard in modern days, 
When a gentleman quite reluctantly pays, — 

I mean, ^^ To come down with the rhino.' 

To follow the fortunes of Marcadee 
And Vidomar much longer would be 

A bore, in all probability. 
And yet, perhaps a curious few 
Might like to have a dissolving view 
Of those two worthies — specimens true 

Of mediaeval nobility. 

The Vicomte travelled upon his gold ; 
Said " Go it young, for when you are old 

You can't," and the way he went it 
Was a pleasant sight for a parasite, 
And followers flattered and fleeced the knisfht 
As clean as Wall Street could with a kite — . 

And that was the way he spent it. 



A merchant of Mentz was toH'd too much. 
He told his neighbors and raised their dutch 

Till they gathered together and " busted " 
The Schloss, and prevailed upon Marcadee 



Treasure- Ti^ove. 



45 



To hang up his sword, — on a one-limb-tree, — 
And so strongly attached to his sword was he 
That he wasted away as it rusted. 




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